His Lips
by UnderTheGrave
Summary: In which Shizuo admires Izaya's perfect features, disappoints him in the sack, and hesitantly admits his true feelings. Some smut followed by sickening amounts of fluff. Shizuo's POV.


_Those hands._

They work over my skin with a feathery touch... a light touch that could quickly turn into a sharp jab of a blade with one wrong move on my part. Each day those deft, slender fingers send their knives at me, but each night, they caress my engorged flesh with such devilish tenderness. They're exhilarating as hell.

_Those eyes._

The way those damn eyes dart up to meet my lustful gaze send of wave of something- I have no fucking idea what- through my body. That crimson hue glimmers in such a sick, captivating way that quakes each joint, every pore, every _inch _of me. He's captured me under some kind of spell with those deadly, bloody orbs.

_Those lips._

Oh yeah, forget those disgustingly pretty eyes. Excuse those naughty, velvety hands. Fuck that perky, tight ass... literally. Those rosy lines of soft skin have always pissed me off like nothing else. He nibbles the bottom one whenever he's working, staring me down during a showdown, or taking my cock up his ass. I often wonder if it's intentional... done solely to piss me off... but he does it when I study him from afar, so maybe I'll never know. What I do know is that I watch those lips more than I like... I love the way his warm breath glides past them and onto my ignited skin... how they press against my skin and ignite each little nerve beneath them... and how they are sliding down on my pulsating arousal as he teases my foreskin with his tongue and takes all of me in like a pro. I love the way he smiles... even if his smiles are never genuine, which is annoying... Yeah, those tender lips drive me so insane I'm getting sappy as shit.

And so, as much as I _despise_ to admit it, I love Izaya Orihara. I'm still coming to terms with it and the fact that it insists to linger in the back of my mind while we fuck makes the process harder. I have no clue when this happened- it just sort of did at some point since we started fucking.

I just try and focus on those lips as they work... So perfect. I hope the flea hasn't caught on, but I'm sure he has... I thread my calloused fingers through his thin ebony locks. It's such a sickeningly tender gesture that I feel him pause, glance up with those deadly eyes, but quickly continue. I feel those lips smirk around my shaft and I grit my teeth, knowing he will store that memory away as to taunt me with later.

My soft touch against his scalp tightens into a fist, tugging his hair and making him jolt to a halt. "Turn around," I demand, yanking his mouth off my cock with a wet pop. He's unfazed- I know his limits, mind you- as he slaps my fist away, stands, and whips around. His pale backside faces me and I gaze at the bite marks I have left from the night before. Those hands rest on the dresser for support, because he knows the best that I don't do things gently. He wiggles that ass right up against me so I rest right between his cheeks, and I growl warningly at him. An amused chuckle starts to escape those damn lips, but I grip his hip in one hand and guide myself right inside of him with the other.

"Ouch, Shizu-chan..." he whines, tossing his gaze over his shoulder to capture me under his spell once again. "It hurts when you go in right away..."

"You can handle it."

"That must be- AH!~ ...a complement."

I start thrusting relentlessly, which spurred his usual moans to seep from those lips. Such addicting little moans could only come from his perfect lips...

He clamps around my most sensitive flesh... It's always so warm... so fucking tight it gets unbearable after too long, but it's too addicting to stop. I love watching myself glide in and back out so effortlessly into such delicious, fiery friction. His legs wiggle as he tries to readjust, but I just keep going, nearly knocking him into the closed windows.

"Nnn... Shizu- Ahhh... Fuck... Harder..."

I've started to worry that I'm going to literally break him when he keeps telling me to fuck him harder. I think it's because of the whole damn love thing, because when we started, I'd just throw him down and pound him with no lube until he was _actually_ screaming for me to stop. Yeah, remember what I said about knowing his limits?

"Shizu-chan!..." he whines. Fuck, fine! I slam my hips into him and his arms give. He falls onto the dresser, head pressed against the glass, and I grip his hips roughly to bring him onto my cock with each powerful thrust. Screams of pleasure are leaving those lips... He's a fucking freak, yeah... but I still love him somehow.

My hips snap into him one last time before I nut deep inside. Fuck, I don't think I've ever came so hard. I just keep shooting- two spurts, three spurts, four spurts- deep in that tight, abused ass.

"Fuck..." is what I hiss as I finally finish and pull away.

"Came so soon again? You used to make me cum so many times before you did," the flea finally grunts still pressed up against the dresser with my cum beginning to leak and trail down his toned legs. His legs still quiver, signifying he hasn't met his release. I pause in my search for a washrag to clean him up and chew my own chapped lips... He really has noticed... When we started a couple months ago, I'd last for ages... But the disgusting feeling of butterflies that emerge when I fuck him now makes it different... The emotion somehow goes straight to my cock and makes it all more intense. It's like no sex I've had before and I just can't hold off as long as I always have been able to.

With an annoyed sigh, my little flea stands with a slight stagger before steadying himself. He paces to his king bed and settles down on his back, limbs spread shamelessly as his disappointed arousal begins to wilt against his thigh. He is fully naked and I know he is showing off that perfect porcelain body on purpose. "Alright, Shizu-chan, spit it out."

"Spit what out?" I grunt while fixing my pants back over my hips and securing my belt. I'm turned away towards the bathroom, but I still sense an amused smirk, despite the major case of blue balls I must be giving him.

"Well, why do you last as long as some 15 year old virgin all of a sudden? I have needs too, you know. You could at least give me a hand job to-"

"Just shut up." I know his words are true, but they still burn. I've never had this problem before. If anything, my parters have always complained that I last _too long, _and the only reason that I doubt it bothered Izaya from the get-go is because he is a total cock whore that could go for hours if you let him.

We are just so perfect.

Well, _were_ so perfect. Until this. Until I started feeling _affection_ for him and nutting too damn fast.

"Shizu-chan, come on, don't get like that," he coos. "So sensitive..."

"Shut it," I shout, whipping around. Unfazed as usual, Izaya didn't even flinch. "You really wanna know, flea? It's all your fault! You're probably even doing it on purpose so you can play some sick mind game."

"What are you talking about?" the raven asks with a chuckle, but I sense confusion by the way his brows are raised.

Why am I getting so upset? My breaths are escaping too fast and my heart aches with some kind of embarrassed feeling. He's noticing. He seems confused. Curious. Concerned...?

"What are you talking about?" he repeats, still calm, but his impatience audibly increasing.

Here goes nothing. He'll kick me out of his apartment, we'll stop fucking, and I can go back to hating him and throwing shit at him on the streets of 'Bukuro. For the best, I guess.

"I don't want to just fuck you... We need to stop."

"Pardon? You don't want to have these relations anymore? Because your little problem says otherwise."

He sounds more caustic than good-humored. He's acting anxious. Defensive... Does he actually want to keep doing this kind of stuff with me, and he just doesn't want to admit it?

I shouldn't get my hopes up. Why would he, when I keep disappointing him?

"It isn't enough!"

He blinks. Fuck it, keep going.

"I love you," I bite out as my stomach drops. Tch, I feel like I'm gonna puke, but words are spilling out instead. "There's so much damn emotion behind it that it makes it hard to last long at all! Everything you do drives me insane."

...

...

It's been a good 30 seconds and he hasn't said a thing. I haven't dared to look at him, but I can almost see the look of disgust. Or maybe amusement, if this really has been some kind of sick mind game. That's enough to make my blood boil, so I dare look back to his pale body, now sitting up alertly on his king bed.

His eyes are wide, like he hasn't recovered from shock. He's chewing on his bottom lip, which is enough to drive me crazy in itself. This is the one time I've really ever wanted to hear than infuriating voice, but it isn't coming. He's just _sitting_ there like a deer in headlights. His reaction is not what I've anticipated.

"Like that," I say in exasperation. "Your lips. You bite them like that."

"What?"

Groaning, I dart to the bed and grab his chin. His eyes catch mine and... "Your eyes fucking do shit like that too!"

"Like what?" he shoots back, and his perfect hands begin to fiddle nervously in the most infuriatingly adorable way.

Another exasperated sigh is followed by a desperate move on my part. I close the distance between our lips and feel him jerk backwards. I was barely able to get my first taste of those angelic lips before he pulled away... So he really is disgusted, huh?

"Idiot," he mutters, and I can only imagine the dejected look I must be showing off right now. Hell, I'm almost crying as I glare of at anything but him.

One of his velvety hands rests on my cheek. The unfamiliar tenderness behind it startles me enough to glare back at him. His crimson eyes soften in a way that is foreign to me, and his lips are slightly parted and swollen.

"Ha, I didn't think you'd ever admit it, brute."

With that, his hands thread into my bleached locks and his eyes close. His lips clash against mine and it's my turn to jerk with surprise. His hands hold my head in place, but I'm not going anywhere.

I've never kissed anyone. I have no idea what I'm doing... but I don't think he knows either. We're both just clumsy little kids learning the ropes. Our lips mesh together clumsily before he is the first to gain the confidence to push his tongue past my lips. It's just perfect. Disgustingly wrong between the two of us, but just perfect.

_Those hands._

They work over my skin with a feathery touch... a light touch that won't revert back to a cold blade. Those deft, slender fingers once sent their knives at me, but each night, they will stroke my hair with the same devilish tenderness. They're exhilarating as hell.

_Those eyes._

The way those eyes flutter closed when I connect my lips send a wave of affection through my body. That crimson hue glimmers in such a captivating way that quakes each joint, every pore, every _inch _of me. He's captured me under some kind of spell with those perfect orbs.

_Those lips._

They taste better than I imagined. They're clumsy against mine, but the way they press against my skin ignites every little nerve beneath them. I feel a genuine smile form on them as we kiss. There I go, getting sappy again.

Since this had a happy ending... I guess I'll give my little flea a "happy ending" too.


End file.
